


Vakarian Reunion

by RainbowMagicMarker



Series: Jane Shepard [4]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Destroy Ending, F/M, Face Paint, Family Dinner, Fluff, Gen, Palaven, Post-Mass Effect 3, Sole Survivor (Mass Effect), Spacer (Mass Effect)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 13:28:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2111622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowMagicMarker/pseuds/RainbowMagicMarker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the time being, the galaxy doesn't need her. She's a soldier, not a bureaucrat, she can't help put it back together after destroying the reapers. For the first time in almost four years she's free to do what she wants, as soon as she gets out of the hospital. When she decides that she wants to meet his family Garrus is mortified, but after everything she'd been through one doesn't exactly say no to Commander Shepard. Mass Effect 3 spoilers, as it takes place after the end of the game. Rated mature for later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Leaving Earth

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks to my girlfriend for encouragement and beta-ing. Broke this one down into chapters when it started getting long on me, looking to release once a day. May need to shift ratings later on but this first chapter is PG13 friendly.

Spirits preserve this was a terrible idea. It could be worse. She could be insisting that _Hannah_ come along too, but fortunately the woman was still active duty and the alliance needed every hand they had left. Except for Shepard, even if she hadn't been hospitalized Garrus was pretty sure no one was going to ask her to return to active duty any time soon. Of course no one was going to tell Shepard this to her face either, or she'd force her way onto the bridge. 

At the moment he was kind of considering telling her though, if only to distract her from this _terrible_ idea. Of course when the rest of the crew found out about it he'd be dead, but he had a feeling that by the end of this terrible idea he'd be dead anyway. He could curse Shepard's silver tongue and using her condition to get him to agree to this. 

\---

 "As of tomorrow I'll be cleared for discharge." Which wasn't to say that they were making her leave, by any means the doctor had also made a point of saying it would be wise to stay longer, but she couldn't take the hospital anymore, she would at least be allowed to check out at her own will. Damn if anyone was going to stop her, but Garrus was going to try. He was already formulating an argument when her next sentence promptly shut down all but the most basic neurological processes. 

"We should visit your father." 

Though he didn't remember saying anything, there must have been some noise of variance in his sub harmonics because there was a poorly hidden grin on Shepard's face. 

"I need to get off this planet, I can't take it." She sighed, shaking her head, "All it takes is a little medi-gel now, the Cerberus enhancements take care of the rest." As much as she hated the organization and the Illusive Man she did make a point of crediting them with being alive, if only because it was mostly Miranda and Jacob's doing. "You've seen Earth and had lunch with my mother. Several times. For all that we've gallivanted about the galaxy I've never seen Palaven, and I think it's about time I met this sister-in-law." It wasn't exactly an official marriage, at least not by the terms of either of their species; it was more of a mutual agreement than anything else. Neither of them cared particularly one way or another about ceremony, what they had been through in the past three years was enough ceremony frankly, a little paperwork while Shepard was stuck in bed hadn't been that big of a deal. 

"You can't-" 

"I will." 

"But you-" 

"Sacrificed myself to save your sorry ass, I think you can survive dinner with your family for me." She had him there and he knew it, she was going to hold that over him forever. Eventually it would lose impact, but right now it was still fresh enough that all he could do was grumble unintelligibly and agree to have a shuttle booked. With any luck there weren't any shuttles heading from Earth to Palaven at the moment; with the relays down fuel was a precious commodity for such a frivolous trip. 

Luck was not on his side, the relays maybe down but the Shadow Broker wasn't, and damn if anyone was going to tell _Commander Shepard_ no after what she had done for the galaxy. There was more than one guilty politician who hadn't listened to her and was keen to change their song now. 

\---

The same afternoon she'd gotten out he'd found himself on a ship making its way out of the sol system and headed once more for Trebia. Liara had even found a way to pass along a message to his father. He was glad that he hadn`t had to receive the response. The only good thing to be said about this excursion was the fact that she was up and walking without a lot of help, it was reassuring to see her independent again, without all the machines and medications of a hospital. 

It was also terrible because she was just as belligerent and uncompromising as she always had been, only without the physical strength to back it up, which meant one very worried turian perpetually attempting to get her to _sit down_. 

"Garrus I've been in a hospital for weeks, and that was _after_ I woke up from the coma. I'm done sitting." She insisted, and with a sigh Garrus stepped up behind her where she was staring out the viewport and wrapped his arms around her. 

"Survive geth, collectors, reapers, the end of the galaxy as we know it, and you're going to be the death of me aren't you?" He shook his head before resting it down against her shoulder. She didn't flinch or twitch like she had at first, which was a good sign that the skin was healing, but he was still careful to be gentle. 

"I can think of better things to do with you than that." She protested, bringing her hand up to stroke the sensitive skin around his scars. For a brief moment it worked, he let his eyes close and his mandibles relaxed in a low purr, and she leaned back into the vibrations like she always had. It worked a lot longer than he would like to admit, until he felt her fingers trailing against the skin of his wrist beneath the long sleeved civilian clothes. 

"Jane." He warned, fixing her with a sideways glare, which got little more than a frustrated whine from the woman. 

"Weeks! In a hospital!" She protested, raising her hands in emphasis, as though that would somehow convince him. It might even have a little bit of the sleeves of her jacket hadn't fallen down just enough for him to see the bandages. 

"On the verge of _dying_. I was there, Jane." He pointed out sternly, to another sigh from her as she extricated herself from his hold and flopped down on the seat in frustration. He didn't give in. "And anyway, I can't show you to my father like that." He crossed over to where their bags had been stashed in a corner, the ship wasn't exactly a high-capacity shuttle but the crew had made room for them in the observation deck as make-shift quarters. They were just honored to have Commander Shepard aboard. There were perks to dating the saviour of the galaxy. 

"Garrus I hate to break it to you but most humans don't turn into turians at any point in their life-cycle." She retorted sarcastically, still a little upset with him it would seem. He had a feeling that it would fade momentarily. 

"Pity that, you'd make an excellent turian." She snorted but he ignored it as he unzipped the bag and riffled through for the container, "But no, I mean blank-faced." He elaborated, standing back up and offering out the blue-stained paint canister for her examination. He had to chuckle lightly as she sniffed at it suspiciously. 

"Blank-faced?" She questioned slowly, face scrunched up in that way she got when she was trying to remember something important but couldn't quite bring it to mind. 

"These markings you like so much, they mean something in turian culture." She nodded along, she had always known that much he was certain, but like many of his inquiries about humans it had simply never had been appropriate to ask. "When a turian selects a permanent mate they merge their markings, or occasionally settle on a new one together. It would-" He hesitated, sitting down beside her and handing her the container, "It would mean a lot to me if you would adopt my markings. At least to meet my father." He stared out the window, his nervousness plain in the waiver of his harmonics as he put it to words. Even after all this time together and the paperwork they'd filed, there was terror in him that she might say no.


	2. Face Paint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His father is a very by the book sort of man, unfortunately the book doesn't really go into turian-human relationships. Garrus will just have to make due with what he has.

The weight of the container left his hand, and snapped his attention back to her as she opened the lid to look down into the blue paint, and then back up at his face. He could feel her eyes tracing the lines of his markings and hear the curious hum in her throat. "They represent family, right?" She questioned, and Garrus breathed out relief a little bit. It wasn't an immediate _no_ at least. 

"Yeah, though there is some variation between individuals as well." He explained, "See this hook," He brought a hand up to his mandible to trace the familiar pattern, "It comes down longer than my fathers, I followed his footsteps into c-sec. But this," He traced the line that extended along his fringe, "It uh- it represents you." He shifted awkwardly, and if turians could blush he would have, "Joining the Normandy, and everything that came with it." He watched as Shepard reached forward, traced the pattern over his temple and back along the fringe. 

"What would Shepard look like?" She asked, holding the paint out for him to show her. 

Garrus chucked lightly, "Nothing, it's a human word and turian facial markings don't really translate like words do." He explained, but he took the canister anyway and stared at her in contemplation. "However..." he dipped a finger to the paint and turned to the window, drawing thee sharp dots and a hollow diamond with looped points at the top and the bottom over the reflection of his face on the window, "This would be appropriate, it means protector." He explained, and she considered it for a moment, examining the symbol and committing it to memory, he could tell in her unblinking expression. 

After a moment she dipped a finger into the paint, studying his face for a moment, before reaching forward and carefully drawing three sharp dots above each eye, though he had to admit to being wary he allowed her steady and methodical movements. She was agreeing to this ceremony for him, as his wife she had the right to request modifications, and they both knew that he would never say no to what she wanted. 

She stopped at the dots though, turning away to rifle through her own bag for a towel to wipe the remaining paint off her fingers. "There. My protector." She nodded sharply, and Garrus turned enough to see the changes reflected in the window and hummed approvingly. If he didn't know better he'd think they'd been applied by a turian. 

"Garrus Vakarian, I would gladly accept your markings." She agreed, setting the towel aside and pulling a hair tie from her bag to pull her hair back out of his way. Garrus' mandibles twitched up and out, a sign of happiness accompanied by a pleased hum in his sub-harmonics. 

Once she got settled leaning back against the couch he dipped a finger into the paint, "Do try not to move." He warned before bringing the paint to her face, drawing the first sweeping line across her nose. The warning did not last long as she squirmed beneath the touch. 

"Tickles." She offered by way of apology before taking a deep breath and gesturing for him to continue. It took twice as long to apply the paint on her as it ever would have to do it to another turian, human faces were apparently surprisingly ticklish and the fumes of it made her sneeze twice, but eventually he drew the final line down across her jaw, the best approximation he could make given her lack of mandibles, and drew his hand away. 

Just as quickly she leaned in, resting her forehead against his, a turian sign of affection that she had adopted early in their relationship, but he was just as happy to be on the receiving end of her human kisses. For a minute they stayed like that, and he studied her face intently, he had to admit to enjoying the sight of his markings on her face. 

Shepard took advantage of his distraction, closing in to kiss him, the hand resting on his shoulder turning more forceful to push him down against the couch. He fell back easily enough as she settled on his chest, one hand trailing against his scars as she kissed his mandibles, his neck, trailing down. 

"Jane." He had the sense to warn her again, but it was much weaker than the first time. She _was_ right, it had been entirely too long since they'd found time together on the way to Horizon, and he had to trust that she was capable of knowing her limits, knowing what she could handle. No matter how much he worried about her now that the galaxy was safe and he had her all to himself. 

"Garrus." She moaned his name gently against his skin, her hand pushing the hem of his shirt up to trace the skin between the chitinous plates. The noise that came out of his throat was somewhere between a growl and a groan, but they both knew she would have her way, even if she cheated to get it. Talons grasped gently at her zipper, pulling away the N7 jacket and dropping it to the floor. As she drew away to fiddle with his shirt he took the opportunity to examine her. Beneath the jacket she had opted for just a light tank top, hoping to keep as much fabric off her still-tender skin as possible. Tender but whole, except for the worst of the burns most of it had healed up already, and it struck him just how _pink_ human skin was. There were bandages still, wrapped across her arms where her armor had broken, wrapped around her waist where she'd nearly bled out, but it was a significant improvement over when she'd first woken up. More than he could have hoped for since she shouldn't have woken up at all. 

She caught him staring, and sat up straight, pausing in her exploration of his body. "Still like what you see?" She teased, smirking down at him and giving up on his shirt for a moment to reach down and pull off her own tank top. Gentle in his movement he pushed her back just enough that he could reasonably sit up and follow suit, pulling off the blue fabric and tossing it aside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking into Turian facial markings and colors is quite interesting, so I hope that this makes sense. I'm always open to feedback and critiques, my girlfriend is the only beta I have, so please drop a comment if anything stands out to you!


	3. Sensitivity

"Could anyone be disappointed?" He teased in response, hooking a talon into her pants and pulling them down over her hips. She pressed against his hand and he could feel the strain against his own pants. He couldn't stifle the moan in his throat as her fingers trailed teasingly over the fabric, dragging the process out before she hooked her thumbs into the band and pulled his pants and undergarments away in one swoop. The friction of the fabric dropped the last of his restraint and the plates slid away to release his erection. 

The smug look on her face was both infuriating and incredibly arousing and it hit him all at once how much he had missed it. He pulled her down and hugged her against his chest with keen desperation, a shudder racing down his spine as she hummed against the vulnerable skin of his neck, a tone laden with affection and longing. It may have been weeks, but it felt like years since she'd told Joker to take them back to Earth, a different lifetime entirely. And in a way it was, it was over, it was behind them, they could have a new life now. 

One with fewer world ending threats, hopefully. 

He wasn't dwelling on that future though. She kept him grounded in the present with the soft hands that had abandoned his scars to wrap gently around him. Slow and tender movements making him arch his neck and pulling an equally long moan out of him. Talons scraped down her back thoughtlessly, though he pulled away quickly at the hiss of pain, her forehead came to rest against his chest and her hands drew away to clench into pained fists. 

"Jane?" He murmured, concern and apology wrapped into the word, and she raised her head to give him a pained smile. "I'm fine." She murmured back, reaching up to kiss his cheek gently, "Just watch the claws yeah?" She teased, lips moving down again to trace the edges of his carapace and tease the exposed skin of his chest. It was harder for him to pick up again, much more aware now of how his hands rested against her hips and his thumb brushed the bandages around her waist. This was a fact that she didn't seem the least bit satisfied by, considering the way that she shifted to straddle his leg while her hand picked up a quicker, more forceful pace. The heat pressed against his leg and the warm breath tickling over his skin made things difficult to focus. 

Of course that also made it difficult to stay passive. As determined as he was to give her complete control over the situation, to follow her lead and be careful of her tender skin, his hips twitched against his will and bucked into her palm. One hand left her hip, straying down along her thigh, carefully angled to keep the talons away from her flesh and just barely tickling her skin with his fingers. His thumb stretched gently down, both hyper aware of his movements and lost in the sensation of her breath hitching against his neck and the tickle of her lips as she tried to form words against his skin. 

He didn't give her a chance, stopping her desperate grind against his leg to press his thumb gently against her warmth. His movements were smooth and confident compared to her erratic longing. Her breathing is shallow as her head falls against his shoulder and her hands falter in their movements, he isn't sure if it's the heightened sensitivity of new skin or just the amount of time since their last encounter, but it all seems so much stronger for her than he remembered, and he _likes_ it. Her wavering voice pressed his name against his neck and he couldn't argue with her pleading any longer. His hands are careful and gentle as he shifts her to adjust the position, once upon a time it was strange and awkward entering her, unfamiliar with human anatomy, but time and practice has taught him. 

He's never prepared for the _warmth_ though. Never prepared for the tight heat that accompanies the dripping wetness and the way it presses against him and pulls. He is slow and careful at first, taking control now as her hands tangle in his crest, but he stubbornly persists in the long and gentle strokes. Slowly his confidence grows, assured that the movements aren't hurting her, and as it grows so does the momentum of his movements, and his name catches in her throat repeatedly. 

They don't last long, it's been too much time and too much emotion and she's barely holding it together at the lightest touch. He catches her face scrunch in that familiar way that he loves, and it's not even a heartbeat later before he feels the muscles spasm inside her. The sound in her throat cuts out and it's only the sound of her short breathing as she rides the sensations, and he holds her tight against his chest, a low purr thrumming through him as she tightens around him and pulls all his restraint from him. It's all warm breath and electric sensations as he empties into her, burying his face in her fringe and for a long time he forgets to breathe until there's nothing left of the pent up emotions and suppressed desires and everything is still except their echoing heartbeats. 

Even then they don't move, he holds her close and measures the rise and fall of her breathing out of habit; after so many nights spent watching her sleep, counting the breaths, not trusting what the machines told him, it was going to be a hard habit to break. He's lost track of what lights are the stars outside the viewport passing them by and what are the lights dancing behind his eyelids as it settles in with the fog just how real this all is now. Neither of them breaks the silence, there isn't anything that needs saying and there's a lingering fear between them that if they did it would all disappear. 

The silence is broken for them when the intercom jumps to life and for a moment the turian is lost and confused because the voice that comes through it isn't Joker. "Twenty minutes out from docking Commander." The navigator tells them, and it all comes crashing back to Garrus that this is more than just _real_. 

"Affirmative, thank you." Shepard raises her head from his shoulder just long enough to speak. 

It's _real_ and they're twenty minutes away from _Palaven_. The rumble of harmonics changes as he swears under his breath, shaking his head as Jane props herself up against his shoulder to fix him with a concerned look. 

"What?" Her brow furrowed in concern and a frown tugged at the corner of her mouth. Garrus raised a hand away from her back to press the palm against his forehead and take a deep breath. His sense of smell is flooded, fresh paint from their faces, medi-gel beneath her bandages, blood from her agitated wound, but worst of all was the mixed scent of turian and human. Sex clung to her and he knew that he wasn't much better. Humans were worse, more porous, scents clung to their bodies longer than turians, but even he didn't stand a chance of smelling halfway decent before they docked. " _Garrus._ " She hissed earnestly when he didn't respond, fear creeping into her tone now. 

"Smell." He grunted, shaking his head and shifting her gently so he could sit up. 

"Well I was going to take a _shower_." She rolled her eyes at him, and for a second he just stared at her in confusion before it hit him that she didn't understand. 

"No, no not you," Well yes her, and him, but he wasn't going to say that, "Turian sense of smell. A shower won't be enough to hide it. Spirits." He groaned, leaning his head back against the glass. This was a nightmare, an absolute nightmare. He was never going to live this down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the first time I've ever written anything near this explicit, but there's a first time for everything, yeah? Hopefully this flows well enough and doesn't seem too awkward, feedback is always appreciated!


	4. Dress to Impress

True to her word she did take a shower, mostly because she wanted to and partly because it would help at least a little bit. She could only vaguely understand why he was so mortified, he explained it as being similar to if her mother caught them in the act. This only worked slightly because the relationship that Jane had with her mother was absolutely nothing like the one he had with his father, and while it would be a bit awkward she wouldn't hesitate to tell her mother to get the fuck out. She would decidedly not be sitting around mortified about any potential lectures involving interspecies relationships and inappropriate timing. Which was exactly how he was spending his time once he'd changed into cleaner and slightly more appropriate clothes, some things were fine for lounging around the hospital for a month but a little less so when visiting your father. 

Not for the first time he glanced at the clock, it was five minutes until dock and Shepard still hadn't returned. Garrus was restless, half of his brain trying to figure out how best to approach this and the other half scouring for excuses as to why they couldn't show up after all. He could fool his father, that actually wasn't too difficult with a little omission, but he could never fool the Commander and she was quite stubbornly insistent on this excursion of hers. 

And then even despite his reservations there was a sigh of relief when the hydraulic doors hissed open before he felt the ship pass through the station’s barriers. All of his rehearsing was unexpectedly brought to a sharp stall when he caught sight of the woman that he had been waiting on. 

He had expected her to return in a fresh tank top and the soft sweatpants she had taken to wearing while her skin healed. That was not even remotely close to what she had actually walked in wearing. Replacing the tank top was a long sleeved tunic in dark blue, carefully folded over her chest to flare in the front, and cinched tightly with a white belt, thinner than typical turian style but the spirit was there. Dark pants reached down and flared out over her black boots, an unusual sight on someone who normally tucked them in, and she'd even donned gloves reaching up to her elbows, covering the bandages. For a moment he just sat there dumbly staring at her, until it registered that she was staring back at him with expectation. 

"Wow." He finally breathed out, "I mean uh- Why? How?" He started, but that sounded rude, unappreciative, "Wow." He breathed again, though realizing a second too late that not only had he already said that but it wasn't really that much better. 

Jane just shook her head and laughed at him, "I'm going to take that as approval. It turns out the Shadow Broker really can acquire anything, and Ms. vas Normandy is a surprisingly skilled seamstress." She answered his stumbling questions, "You've said yourself that your father is very by the book, I may be human and I can't change that, but I can show respect." She shrugged as she put away the bag that she had taken with her to the showers. 

Of course Liara had some part in this, the asari was entirely too enthusiastic to get Shepard off of earth in any way that the Commander wanted, and here he had thought she would be too busy antagonizing Javik to go through so much effort. In this particular instance he wasn't disappointed. He was still confused though, "But how are you wearing it? With the- uh…" He trailed off, trying to find a gentle way to word it. 

Predictably, Jane didn't give him the chance. "Third degree burns over most of my body?" He nodded, it was completely normal for Shepard to be flippant about her own injuries, she would sit in the mess hall bleeding on the table while making sure Chakwas saw to anyone else before going into the med bay herself, but even fresh out of the coma she had been the least concerned about the extent of her injuries. She had made sure Garrus was alright, he had been right there with her when the reaper fired on them, and she had spent days eaten alive by guilt over what happened to EDI before she had ever considered her own injuries. "Veeeery carefully." She responded, drawing out the words in a friendly mimicry of Tali's inebriated tone that made Garrus laugh. 

Briefly the ship jarred, the gravity shifted imperceptibly to sync in with the planet, and the sense of dread that had faded briefly at the sight of Shepard sunk back into his stomach. Predictably Shepard didn't pick it up at all, the only thing she picked up was her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. She hadn't brought much, she had little enough to begin with and as a soldier she knew how to travel light. That didn't mean Garrus liked it. 

Carefully he plucked the bag from her shoulder and reached for his own. "Garrus I am perfectly capable-" She protested with a glare, reaching for the bag again even as he yanked it back out of her reach. 

"Reach, flexibility, I feel like we've had this conversation before." He returned sarcastically, raising the bag up out of her reach, there was something inherently hilarious about the saviour of the galaxy being defeated by a couple inches of extra height. "And Chakwas says otherwise, you may have saved the galaxy, but Chakwas saved you, several times. I'm more inclined to believe her on this one." She could talk the galaxy into playing nice, but she wasn't going to talk him out of this one. Fortunately she wasn't putting up too much of an argument, rolling her eyes and leading the way to the door, but unfortunately he had a feeling that only meant she was planning something bigger. 

By the time he'd done a last once over of the observation deck and caught up with her, she was shaking hands with the pilot and crew of the small vessel, all grins and goodwill as the navigator requested a signature. Commander Shepard wasn't exactly an unheard-of name, as he had quickly discovered serving under her, but it was still fascinating to him how smoothly she adapted to the fame. "Thank you for the ride, and tell our mutual friend that their efforts are very appreciated." She drew the words _mutual friend_ out with a knowing wink. Glyph might have been the biggest security risk this side of the universe, but Shepard wasn't too far behind the little drone. 

"Of course Commander, it's an honor. And I'll uh, I'll let them know." The man returned, snapping to salute as soon as Shepard had stepped back, followed a heartbeat later by his men. 

Shepard returned the symbol, "Fly well men." She added as farewell before turning on her heel and heading out the airlock. With a sterner nod Garrus followed behind, his hands a bit too full for anything more. He caught up with her on the other side of the airlock, standing loosely at attention. It was a stance he had come to recognize, she didn't see a civilian landing zone in front of her, she saw a military one. Unsurprising given the nature of Palaven and it’s Hierarchy, but he couldn't completely stifle his amusement. 

"I can't tell if you're about to give orders or waiting for them." He teased, coming to a stop beside her. 

"Hmm? Oh." She dropped her hands surreptitiously from behind her back, pretending she hadn't the slightest idea what he was talking about, "Neither, just looking." 

"For?" 

But the question was wasted as her face twisted into a smirk and a proud _aha_ echoed from her throat. She was moving quickly forward through the minimal crowd, she didn't have too much trouble though. An alien on Palaven wasn't quite as common as one on the Citadel or a place like Illium, and there were more than a few surprised glances of confusion and recognition, including from the customs officer who stepped in front of the determined woman. "Ma'am I'm going to need your-" 

"Commander Shepard, Alliance Navy and Citadel Spectre." She brought up her omni-tool and quickly pressed a few quick shortcuts to send the man her credentials. His mandibles twitched in surprise as his own omni-tool beeped at his wrist. He held her a moment longer as he scanned her credentials, but eventually stepped aside.

"Commander Shepard, it's an honor. Will you need anything?" 

"No, just here on leisure." 

"Of course Commander." The customs officer stepped out of her way and waved her through, and Garrus followed suit, pointing after the woman and offering a shrug. An act which briefly seemed to confuse the man before he too was waved along, of course the Commander had passed on his own records as well, but it would seem he'd picked up a few more human mannerisms from the Normandy than he had originally thought. 

He would think on it a bit more before running into his father, except he heard the Commander's flat voice echoing back to him amongst the buzzing throng of turian harmonics. 

"You must be Solana, a pleasure!" 

_Spirits_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit behind because yesterday was my girlfriend's birthday but here it is, it got bizarrely long on me so I opted to cut it there before it got away from me entirely. But hey, Solana!  
> Also, to those who have left kudos and comments, it's much appreciated and I'll be responding to those shortly!


	5. Sibling Reunions

"Err, yes. And you would be Commander Shepard I presume?" The voice of his sister reached him as well as he carefully sidestepped through the crowd who were trying to catch a glimpse of the Commander without openly gawking. The slight confusion and wariness was obvious to Garrus, and once he managed to get in line of sight of them he could see it in the uneasy twitch of her mandibles. "Father received word that you would be coming, though the message didn't say why…" She glanced up, searching for something it seemed like, but then caught sight of him instead. "Garrus!" 

The turian stepped forward and dropped his bag, reaching out to clasp his sister's hand firmly, equally pleased to see that she was doing relatively okay despite the broken leg during the evacuation. 

"We didn't know you were alive, after the reapers fell everything just went dead. Father's been in fits." Solana shook her head, taking a deep breath to compose herself. 

"Yeah when Shepard does something she does it big, and generally without warning." He fixed the human woman with a knowing stare and a gentle elbow. "Fortunately it takes more than direct reaper fire to kill me." A shudder went through both women, Solana couldn't imagine being that close to a reaper most likely, and Shepard hated how close he had been to dying there. Not that he would have had it any other way, but getting her to see that was easier said than done. 

For a moment there was silence while the siblings awkwardly avoided eye contact with each other, and Shepard stood patiently by with the least helpful possible expression, before both of them attempted to speak at once. 

"So about the uh, markings-"  
"The markings you, uh, we'll she's-"  
"Is there something you-"  
"No! I mean it's just-" 

" _Garrus_." Shepard coughed, and instinctively he stopped talking and snapped to attention. "Thank you. Allow me to start this again. Hello Solana, I am Jane Shepard-Vakarian, it's a pleasure to meet you." She offered a polite hand to the turian woman as she introduced herself, though for a moment Solana simply failed to react. 

Garrus was a little too quick to react. "You are?" His confusion was obvious in the waiver of his harmonics and the restless twitch of his mandibles. They had joked about it on Earth, settling down and being married, and they had agreed on having it settled in the hospital without a whole lot of fanfare of discussion and just letting Liara handle most of the paperwork. But this was the first he was hearing about appending her name. 

"Yes Garrus, unless you're getting cold feet on me." She returned with sarcastic patience. 

Solana laughed, breaking the confused discussion and her own stunned silence. "You are kidding me." Though there was good humor behind the words Garrus couldn't help looking a little ashamed, "You ditch C-Sec to chase a Spectre, disappear for two years, talk father into letting you pursue the reapers, ditching _that too_ to cure the genophage, and when it's all said and done you bring home a wife. A _human wife_." The words are emphasized by the rumbling laughter of her harmonics, and underlined by and added smirk from the human in their presence. "Father is going to have fits." 

Garrus could only imagine how well that whole thing was going to go over. "Always supportive aren't you Solana." He returned with rolled eyes, "I'm sure it's going to be a wonderful conversation with father. Where is he?" He tore his attention away from the group at hand to scan the crowd for the older Vakarian. 

"Indeed, I come to meet my father-in-law and he seems to be missing." Shepard chimed in with a teasing tone, happy to let the family catch up but comfortable to speak up when appropriate, years of mediating conflict giving her a sense of when to speak up. 

"Your shuttle was running behind, he had a call to deal with and said he'd be back momentarily." Solana responded as though it was obvious, and Garrus nodded along. Even for a turian the elder Vakarian had always been particularly devoted to his duties and he wouldn't let a delayed shuttle keep him away for any longer than necessary. 

"Perhaps a seat while we wait?" Shepard suggested lightly and gestured towards the benches along the wall. It was understandable that Vakarian would be busy in this time of turmoil and upset in the galaxy he would be working to maintain some kind of contact with the outer colonies as best he could. Still, Garrus could curse himself for not noticing how tired Shepard had been getting, he had promised Chakwas to see that she was okay but she hadn't rested at all since boarding the shuttle. Shepard wasn't waiting for an answer however, she was moving towards the bench to take a seat with the confidence that Garrus at least would follow, and reasonably Solana would follow the both of them. This was exactly the course of events, with murmured agreement from him as he followed after the human woman. 

Carefully Shepard settled on the bench, leaning back and taking the opportunity to stretch her legs out. Garrus collected his dropped bag and shoved their belongings under the bench and out of the way before taking a seat beside her. "You'll forgive me if I stand; Father wasn't sure why you were coming and wanted to be here early just in case. We've been waiting for some time." Solana explained and Shepard nodded politely, not the least bit concerned about any expected formality. 

"Leg's healed up then?" Shepard started in casually, testing the waters of small talk, "I heard you broke it in the evac, must have been frustrating." Onboard a ship this would have been the prologue to any number of missions Shepard had completed while dealing with some injury or another, where this was going with a civilian like his sister he couldn't begin to guess. 

"They can bring you back from the dead; I don't think a broken leg is too much of a problem anymore." Solana returned with easy sarcasm, and the worry that was knotting in his stomach. started to fade. At least Solana seemed open to the idea of making friends. Not a surprise really, but nice all the same. "Hell of a thing to drag around when you're on the run though." She agreed, her mandibles flicked out in a brief grin. Shepard nodded sympathetically, hobbling a hasty retreat was not a concept foreign to her and she knew just how frustrating and embarrassing that could be. 

"Not an experience I would recommend." Shepard nods, "The running, or the dying. I try not to make a habit of either." Though her tone is light and friendly there is deep sympathy in her words, and while Garrus wasn't sure that Solana understood all the nuances of the human's tone, she didn't seem offended by the words and he wasn't about to take that for granted. 

"Really for someone who doesn't make a habit of it we sure seem to do an awful lot of both." Garrus retorted, and Shepard gave him a sharp elbow in the side in response, which only flared his mandibles and sent a happy rumble through his harmonics. 

"Better than you, you took a rocket to the face." Solana added in with heavy rumble of her own that showed her relative comfort with the situation at hand. 

" _Stopped_ a rocket with my face," He corrected with mock offense, "And _still_ look good enough to get a date with the most famous woman in the galaxy." He leaned back and casually draped an arm around Shepard without ever looking away from his sister, "How's that working out for you Sol?" 

His sister would have loved to chime in with her own rebuttal had another voice not chimed in to interrupt the conversation. 

"We had thought you were escorting the body home, I am glad to see this assumption was wrong."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solana Vakarian, I have to admit to having an irrational soft spot for her considering how little we actually see or hear of her in the games, so hopefully I can convey some of that in this chapter. That and some friendly sibling teasing, though I don't have any siblings myself so I hope this doesn't come too off mark. Thank you guys for the Kudos and Comments, pretty sure this is the biggest bit of fanwork I've ever done and we're not quite done yet.


	6. No Apologies

Immediately Shepard was on her feet, slipping into a stance of respectful attention as she turned to face the older Vakarian. "Executor, I apologize that the full message failed to get through, it was never my intent for your family to suffer undo worry." The way that she slipped so smoothly from casually teasing his sister to the respectful apology offered to his father was bafflingly graceful to Garrus. It wasn't the first time he'd seen her quickly transition appearances to handle different situations, but it wasn't usually on something so personal. 

"You have brought my son home alive Commander, I think a communication error can be forgiven when the galaxy stands in disarray." The elder Vakarian offered a hand out to the Commander, who was quick to accept the gesture. Garrus himself stood and turned to face his father, the man standing on the other side of the row of benches, and he can see the stiff posture and lightly narrowed eyes as the full scope of the situation reveals itself. All at once the tension that his sister had dismissed returned, and it came back just how much he'd rather face down a reaper than be standing in front of his father. "However, I believe we have much to discuss. Will you be staying with us long Commander?" 

Garrus shifted awkwardly, he knew his father wasn't going to want to talk about it in the middle of the dock with any number of observers, of which Shepard had caught more than a few already, but he couldn't miss the way his father's eyes were coldly tracing over the markings on Shepard's face. From the way she tensed and straightened her posture just a little bit more, it seemed like she could feel it too. 

"Not too long, sir. I'm dealing with a bit of recovery, I was just released from the hospital, and wanted to get a good feel for Palaven. Foods been taken care of and alternate lodging can be arranged if you'd prefer." She offered politely, and for a long moment steel eyes met blue ones and Garrus and Solana could only stand helplessly by while the two sized each other up. The turian was more experienced in these matters, he'd been in C-sec and worked with politicians for most of his life, he had the advantage of size and age as he met her gaze. But Shepard had worked with every species imaginable, she could stare down a Salarian in one second and head butt a Krogan the next, and she had a raw power and confidence in herself that the Executor couldn't match. 

"We shall see, Commander." It was the turian that looked away first, though Garrus couldn't tell if it was out of respect or defeat, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. The trek out of the port and into the skycar was eerily silent, except for the brief and vaguely disappointed glances that his father gave him when he picked up Shepard's bag. Even Solana wasn't making an attempt to broach the silence, this wasn't the kind of discussion to try and have in a place like this. 

Once the bags were tossed in the car and Garrus and Jane slid in the back seat, however, was a different story. "Garrus." It was all he needed to say to prompt the conversation. 

"It's exactly what it looks like Dad." He cut in quickly, resting a hand on Shepard's shoulder to keep her quiet for the moment. She gave him a wary look for it, but she seemed to understand from the way she leaned back and pressed her mouth shut, it was the same look she gave the council when they wanted to argue about the obvious. "Twice I watched her die knowing that I'd missed my chance, I wasn't going to let that happen a third time. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me Dad." Most people didn't even get a second chance, he _shouldn't_ have gotten a third one, but Shepard had been brought back and then he had watched as she charged to the Citadel on her own. There was nothing his father could say that could even begin to match what he had felt watching her go to her death. 

"I see." His father's tone didn't give anything away, and he didn't turn around to look at his son the way that Solana turned to examine his face. He met his sister's eyes easily, she might have the better relationship with their parents but she was still more open to the idea than their father was. Garrus could see that already, particularly from the slight nod of reassurance she gave him. 

"I'm not going to apologize Dad, and I'm not asking you to agree. All you've heard are stories, give her a chance." He was absolutely certain that his father wouldn't agree with him, and he wasn't here for his father's approval anyway, he was here because Jane insisted. He'd do everything he could to make this visit tolerable, and he knew his wife and sister would get along at least, but he couldn't see his father warming up any time soon. 

"Your Commander has personally escorted you back to us Garrus, for that she is welcome in our home for the duration of her stay." There was tension in his sub-vocals when the elder Vakarian spoke up again after the silence had stretched on. It wasn't the answer that Garrus wanted to hear, and it wasn't the answer that his father wanted to give, that much was obvious. But it was the closest that they were going to come to a compromise. He wasn't going to push his luck right now, not when the tension in the skycar seemed a little bit less cold in the wake of his father's ruling, even if he had carefully stipulated that it was a temporary welcome. The silence stretched on unbroken, as much because there wasn't too much to say at the moment as it was because they didn't want to speak. 

Their final destination wasn't the home that Garrus remembered, unsurprising when you considered that most of the reports indicated there was currently a reaper corpse sitting where the Vakarian homestead used to be. Where they stopped was a smaller building just barely outside of Cipritine, granted to the Executor until more of Palaven had been reclaimed from the ruins. It was a three bedroom at least, with a study for the Executor and the usual amenities of kitchen, dining, and a social den. It seemed surprisingly cozy despite its lack of familiarity. 

"We've already scouted the ruins, of course we took everything important with us when he had to evacuate but there were some bits and pieces we reclaimed. It's pretty grim but it can be rebuilt. You know Dad though; he won't even consider it until the cities are functional." Solana filled them in as she escorted them to the guest room and saw that they got their stuff squared away. "What can I do for you?" The ride and the stress had obviously taken its toll on Shepard, only barely out of the hospital and already pushing herself. To Garrus it was obvious, and it would seem that even lacking familiarity with humans that Solana had picked up on at least some of it. 

Shepard offered the woman a somewhat strained smile. "I would kill for dinner and a movie." And Solana flared her mandibles gleefully and disappeared down the hall, shouting back something about meeting her in the den when they were settled. 

"I think you might have a new fan, Shepard." Garrus shook his head at his sister as he pushed the door closed, the usual mix of affection and exasperation at his sister bubbling through his harmonics. Shepard chuckled, shaking her head as she shrugged out of the heavy fabric of the turian outfit she wore, exchanging it instead for a lighter, plain white tee shirt and the dark sweat pants that didn't irritate her skin so much. 

"Fifty percent isn't bad. She's sweet, I see the family resemblance." Shepard teased as she grabbed his hand, and automatically he leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers. 

"Let me know if you still think that after she's made you watch all the Blasto movies back to back before you're allowed to go to bed." He returned, he could already guess what his sister was setting up in the den, and while he wasn't going to complain about dextro food cooked by someone who actually knew what it was supposed to taste like, he could do without the movie marathon that Shepard had just unwittingly signed them up for. Not that he had a choice. 

And true enough the evening was filled with bad junk food, worse movies, and the joyous fact that both Shepard and Solana rather enjoyed picking on him, he would almost say they got along a little too well. Fortunately Shepard was asleep by the third Blasto movie, and he ran his fingers through her hair as she dozed in his lap. It gave him quiet time with Solana, a chance for her to bring him up to speed on the current events around Palaven. Things were bad, there was no doubt, but they would have been worse if he hadn't stepped in to prepare things. He couldn't stifle the pride he felt about that, he had succeeded at that much at least. 

His father never did appear again after vanishing into his office. Solana insisted it was because he was busy with everything going on; that it was hard to maintain law and order on a planet mostly in ruins, but Garrus was less confident. His father just didn't want to deal with all the feelings and complications that the human woman's presence brought up. It was going to be a long visit of the older turian kept up these avoidance tactics. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things of note, I settled on the title of Executor for Garrus' father due to the multiple mentions of him joining C-sec because his father had. It makes sense that upon returning to Palaven and facing the aftermath of the Reaper war that he would return to a position of law enforcement and maintaining civil order. We encounter Executor Pallin in the first game as head of C-sec, and since C-sec was founded by the turians it follows that it would draw titles from the hierarchy. So I opted to place Vakarian senior into an Executor position, a mostly political position that befits his age and previous service, to organize the search for survivors, refuges returning, etc.
> 
> Not as much of him this chapter as I'd like but I promise there will be plenty to come.


	7. Dinner and a Show

Unsurprisingly he didn't see much of his dad after that first day. Though at least Solana hadn't been entirely fibbing, the man was in and out of the house at all hours and when he was home the office com lines never stopped ringing. If he had any real downtime Garrus hadn't seen it, though that didn't stop Solana from keeping them busy. The pair of them were celebrities around Palaven it would seem, and while mornings started with a visit to Dr. Pertinax for physical therapy; the renowned therapist more than happy to oversee Commander Shepard even with the added workload of recovering refugees; followed by entirely too many politicians for his liking. Everyone wanted to hear directly from Shepard, about the war and the crucible and what had happened after it fired. The Commander was a valuable source of information in a time when it was very hard to come by. 

What surprised Garrus was how many people wanted to talk to him, wanted to know about Menae and the Krogan alliance, his father may not have a whole lot of good to say about his part in the war, but it seemed like the rest of Palaven did. The most reassuring thing about all the people they saw was the number of faces he recognized from the refugee camps on the Citadel. It was surprisingly satisfying to see so many familiar faces coming home and knowing that he'd helped to make that possible, in more ways than one. 

It must have shown, at least enough that Shepard picked up on it. As he offered farewell to a thankful mother who insisted his work on the Citadel was the only reason that her children were still alive Shepard grabbed his hand, squeezing lightly. "Every shot was worth it, huh?" She murmured gently, looking up at him with a subtle smile. 

"Yeah." He agreed quietly, "Yeah, seeing something good on the other side of that mess makes it worth it." There had been a lot of death, and a lot of families that weren't quite as lucky as that woman, but any future was better than what the Reapers would have offered them. Knowing there was some good in the destruction helped ease the pain of all that death. 

"Primarch." A familiar voice cut in, and he turned to catch sight of Solana approaching Victus with a respectful salute, "With all due respect Sir, I'm not supposed to let Shepard out in the sun this long. So if you'll excuse her perhaps we can meet with you another afternoon?" He had to commend the way she negotiated smoothly, she was definitely much more of their father's child than he ever had been, she probably would have made a better C-sec officer too. 

"Ah right, Doctor Maecilia Pertinax wasn't it? Send her my thanks; she's done quite a bit for my men." Victus returned with a polite nod to the three of them, "And if she wants you out then I'm not in a position to argue. Another afternoon Shepard, Vakarian." He offered hand to each of them in turn, though Solana gave them barely enough time to accept before herding them off to the skycar. 

"I may have been through hell and back but, I'm pretty sure Palaven is hotter." Shepard sighed as she leaned back in the air conditioned car. Garrus could only laugh and shake his head before his attention turned to his sister instead. 

"Thanks for the rescue Solana but, uh, what's your plan here?" He had to question, while he wouldn't be the least bit surprised if Pertinax had given her that order, she still had to have some kind of stronger reasoning behind interrupting their visit with Victus and the other politicians and civilians that had turned up for the meeting. 

"We have reservations; my brother brings home his wife for a visit of course I'm going to take them to lunch." Solana's mandibles flared, particularly pleased that she had caught them off guard with her plans, "I may have had to drop Shepard's name but there are only so many places opened up that can serve levo." 

"There are places open already?" Shepard quirked an eyebrow, arms crossed over her chest in suspicion. 

"Everyone helps how they can, and we all need to eat." Garrus shrugged, it wasn't all that strange to him. If cooking was what you did before the war it was probably what you were going to do after, and there were plenty of mouths that needed to be fed. Even more important everyone needed an escape in the middle of all the destruction, no one could stand to spend all their time excavating the dead and trying to clean up the rubble. 

Spirits, he wasn't going to get used to seeing the sharp and pristine architecture of Cipritine in rubble. 

Still, there were some places that were comparably intact, and kitchens that still worked it seemed. The building that Solana stopped in front of wasn't a whole lot on the outside, but it had been cleaned up fairly well inside, surprisingly pristine considering the overall state of Palaven. He didn't recognize the place, but that wasn't a surprise; he hadn't had any real leisure time on his homeworld since before he'd left for C-sec. The smell was enough to speak for itself though. 

"So will the Executor be joining us?" Shepard questioned as they were shown to a table, Garrus pretended not to pay attention to the question by burying his face into the menu, but he couldn't hide the snort and the flare of his mandibles when Solana shook her head. 

"No, he was going to but he got a call on our way out the door, couldn't make it after all." Solana sighed, though Garrus wasn't sure if it was because she had noticed his own response or she shared his frustration with their father. Shepard noticed, he could feel the way that her eyes fixed on him, but he just stared even more intently at the words on the menu. 

Shepard leaned back and examined the menu herself, "And what about you Solana, you seem to have a lot of free time to drag us around." Her tone was teasing, and it seemed that his sister was getting better at picking up the subtleties of human voices despite the lack of harmonics because she didn't have to consider the words before mandibles flared happily at her sister-in-law. 

"I do medical volunteer work, wherever I'm needed mostly. As a Vakarian I can drop Dad's name where it's needed to help ease some of the supply shortages. Mostly I just serve as an extra pair of hands though; more often than not that's what they need most right now." That was news to Garrus, he hadn't been aware before all this that his sister had been working in the medical field. He couldn't say it surprised him, it really hit her hard what had happened to their mother, but there was still an irrational bit of guilt that Shepard had thought to ask before he had. Maybe his commander was right; he shouldn't spend quite so much time focused on his father. 

He intended to inquire further into his sister's foray into the medical field, but a waiter's appearance but that idea on hold. Orders were placed quickly, and autographs were signed which he was getting strangely used to, and by the time it was all said and done Solana was quick to pick up the conversation again. 

"And what about you two? Don't suppose you're planning to hang around?" There was a vaguely hopeful twitch in his sister's subharmonics, but he could tell she knew it was a fool's hope. There was too much yet to be done in the galaxy for two lifetime officers to consider staying anywhere for very long. 

Shepard shrugged, "I don't know yet, I haven't gotten any word back from Earth. I can't say much until I've heard from the Alliance." She may be on leave for recovery but her tour of duty wasn't exactly over, and as a Spectre she was never off duty. And of course besides her husband he was still her XO, wherever the Normandy went he was going to go along. Of course it was also his duty to make sure she wasn't going anywhere until Dr. Pertinax declared that she was fit for duty, but of course Solana already knew that. 

"At least you made time to bring this lug home first, thank you Commander." Solana reached across to punch Garrus in the shoulder, offering her brother a flared grin. He had to admit that it was nice to be home for a little bit, without having to worry about the Reapers that were right around the corner. 

"Vakarians I swear, Solana you're my sister in law you can call me Jane." It never ceased to surprise Shepard how often she had been called Commander while on Palaven. He'd heard about it every night that they'd been here. Even aboard the Normandy she had mostly just been Shepard. Why she would still want to marry into turian society if it bothered her so much he didn't know, but you wouldn't catch him questioning his luck. 

To her credit though Solana handled that invitation a lot better than he had when Shepard had called him out on it, back when the Normandy flew Cerberus colors. "Alright, Jane." She nodded as she pushed her glass aside to make room for the plates, reflexively assisting in passing out the food to the proper individuals. Shepard just offered a smile, though Garrus wasn't sure that the turian waiter would understand the gesture. He seemed satisfied enough at least because he left them be once things seemed settled, though Garrus still wasn't used to the sideways glances of people who wanted to catch a glimpse of the saviour of the galaxy. 

Still, it was worth the food. He hadn't had proper turian food in so long that just about anything tasted amazing compared to what he ate on the Normandy. Of course it had to be a fairly nice restaurant before the war to be up and running so quickly now, and he could agree that considering the state of things the food really was excellent. The company wasn't terrible either once the two women started talking, though Solana was entirely too amused to share stories of "target practice" when he was younger. 

"And yet I'm still the best shot on the Normandy, isn't that right Shepard." He fixed the red-haired woman with a pointed look and she just offered a sly smile in return. 

"I wouldn't know what you're talking about, Vakarian." Somehow he wasn't the least bit surprised by her attempt at denial, but she wasn't getting away with it that easy. 

"Oh really? Because I remember a certain afternoon spent settling this on top of the Presidium." He stared her down over the top of his fork, blue eyes meeting steel unwaveringly, " _It's windy up here_ was the excuse I believe?" 

Shepard shook her head with a chuckle, "Well I can say I learned from the best at least, though I've never seen you hack a Geth Prime while it was launching rockets at you." She brandished the point of her own fork across the table at him. 

"That would be because I don't stick my face out there in front of them, I'd like to see you do it without my cover fire." He shot back readily. 

"Right, right. That's only gunships you like to stick your face in front of." She snorted, shaking her head at him. 

Solana laughed, and they both immediately snapped their attention back to her, having almost forgotten that she was there in the middle of their mocking tirade. "Thank you Jane, this is the happiest I've seen him in years." 

"Yeah, because everyone is always cheerful when they're trying to stop the end of all organic life with a single frigate." He laid the sarcasm on thick as he rolled his eyes at his sister, as much as he loved Solana sometimes she could be a little ridiculous. That was the thing about younger sisters. 

"Really because the last time I saw you banter like this was before you left for C-sec, and that was well before this war." She joined the general cutlery pointing with a particularly blunt tone, and Garrus couldn't find a way to argue that point with her. He could comment about a few things on the Normandy but in the end, she was right. All the stories he could point out to counter her involved Shepard when he really thought about it, which meant they didn't actually serve as a counter-argument at all. 

"It feels like a lifetime ago you were in C-sec, almost shot Dr. Michel for that information on Tali." As Shepard spoke Garrus stared down at his plate sheepishly, that may not have been his proudest moment looking back on it now, no matter how proud he had been of that shot at the time. Shepard had brought quite a few things into perspective for him since then. 

But of course that was another story that Solana wanted to hear. As nice as seeing his family and catching up with his sister was, he couldn't help but sigh at just how well his wife and sister got along. Sometimes you just can't win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so writing banter is a little bit too fun with this group and I got a little carried away, but I enjoyed fleshing out the relationships. Sorry about the delay, it's been busy getting my girlfriend packed up and moved out to Seattle. Roughly three more chapters here, all of which are mostly planned and just need to be fleshed out, so things should pick up a little bit better I think. Thank you all for your patience and comments, it means a lot!


	8. More Than Stories

Garrus stood in the dimly lit hallway and stared at the closed office door. He didn't have long to stand here, Shepard would quickly notice that he had been gone much longer than indicated and they would come looking for him. He couldn't let Solana catch him, she had been quite careful about keeping him and his father separated. He wouldn't be the least bit surprised if their father had specifically assigned her this task, and he couldn't fault her for it either. It was a lot easier for him to stand up and deny their father, he didn't need to live here; he had a duty that kept him away. Solana didn't have that, quite the opposite her duty kept her right here with their father. But this was a conversation that needed to happen and he couldn't let his sister stand between it any longer. 

But that didn't mean that standing here and trying to work up the courage to knock didn't make him feel any less like a fourteen year old boy telling his father about the study abroad scholarship. And now, just like then, he fully intended to go through with things whether the elder Vakarian approved or not. With a long exhale he reached up and knocked, holding his breath for the eternity that passed before it actually opened.

"Garrus?" There was genuine surprise lacing his father's greeting as he let himself in, "I was expecting someone else." The Executor leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on his son with that sternly expectant gaze, the kind of look that warned him that this conversation better be worth his time. It was a look that Garrus had gotten a lot as a child, and even more so once he had entered C-sec. It never failed to make him hesitate. 

"Yeah Dad, you got a minute?" He questioned, stepping past the door and pressing it closed behind him, his actions and tone making it clear that the question was nothing more than formality. This conversation was happening now, while Garrus had his nerve up, whether his father wanted it to or not. Mostly because he knew that his father would most definitely prefer not, and ideally never. Unfortunately for him that wasn't an option his son found acceptable. 

The silence as his father considered the proposition was agonizing, and Garrus was pretty sure it was entirely intentional as he tested his son's resolve. It wouldn't be the first time that he was made to wait in silence to prove that he was truly dedicated to whatever cause he was bringing to his father's attention. Garrus was careful to maintain the same stubborn eye contact however, as difficult as it may have been. The Executor broke first, exhaling a faint sigh as he put his omnitool on hold and gestured for his son to have a seat. 

Garrus remained standing. 

"Look dad I'm still not going to apologize, and you don't have to agree with this, but the first thing Commander Shepard wanted when she woke up was to come and see you. I'm not asking you to like her dad, I'm just asking you to have dinner with her." A little respect, that was all. She could go anywhere and do anything at this point, no one was going to argue with her after what they had been through, and the only thing she wanted was to come out here and have dinner with him. Regardless of what he thought about their relationship he could show some respect to the woman who had saved the galaxy. 

From his expression, his father did not agree. "Palaven is in disarray Garrus; I do not have time for such frivolities. Surely the Commander would understand that." His pointed tone could cut sharper than any thannix cannon, and it took a surprising amount of willpower not to flinch under the words. 

"Palaven is not going to fall down around itself because you stepped out of your office for an hour." He countered coldly, unwilling to take his father's ongoing excuses. He could color it however he wanted, any other turian wouldn't be caught dead turning down Commander Shepard. Not when she had set aside Earth's danger to see that Palaven got the aid it needed, and let alone when that same woman was technically family now. 

"I have a duty, and it is not to that human you brought home. I take care of my own species first." It was surprising to Garrus how little anger rattled his father's voice, particularly with a phrase like that; it was far more cold and resolute than he had been prepared to face. His stomach only sank further when he forced himself to meet his father's eyes and saw nothing but complete conviction. 

So that's what this was about, really. He couldn't even feel particularly angry; he could only sigh inwardly at his father's judgment. That was the thing about turians; they were a hard bunch to please. "Commander Shepard gave me a duty, and an understanding of the word. It's because of her I could come back here and do something about the Reapers, do something to prepare Palaven. I thought you'd appreciate that dad, she makes me a better turian." As much as he tried to hide it, he just sounded tired when he spoke, the fatigue of it all echoed in his subharmonics and it took a surprising amount of willpower not to just collapse into the chair under the weight of it all, the utter inability to please his father. 

"A better turian? Time and again you have betrayed the hierarchy and abandoned your duty to chase this woman, this _Spectre_ , around the galaxy on a human ship. You disappear for two years without contact, and when we do hear from you again you refuse to come visit your mother and claim you can't even tell us why?" At the mention of his wife the first tremble of anger leaked its way into his cold tone, "She wanted to see her son's face one last time before she forgot it, and you deny her that?" 

Garrus knew better, he knew that being on the Normandy, the contacts he made there, had helped his mother more than his presence ever could, but the shame still forced him to break eye contact and stare down at the floor. His father would never believe that his son used STG contacts to arrange for his wife's treatment, he wasn't even sure Solana believed it after he had told her about Mordin. 

"I came back as soon as my duty allowed. Spectre business is always classified." His father knew that well enough; it was a good chunk of the reason that the man hated the Spectre branch. It was a weak defense that had already been rejected time and again, and yet it was the only one that he had. "I oversaw the taskforce to prepare for the reapers, I advised the Hierarchy on anti-Reaper techniques, I personally escorted and defended the Primarch, and I organized turian fleet movements. The Normandy is half turian design, is it not fitting to have a turian XO?" What more duty did his father want from him? If what he'd done hadn't so much as begun to impress the man then what more could he do? His bones ached just holding him up and he had to close his eyes and take a breath before he could fix his gaze on his father again. He'd never been in a battle half as fatiguing as this conversation. 

"And what of your family, of the Vakarian name?" His father countered, unconvinced as always by Garrus' arguments. "You paint this woman's face and bring her in public smelling like a _fledgling_." He winced slightly as his father spat the word at his feet, "It's a public spectacle, and I'm still dealing with the backlash of that foolishness." Of course that would come up, he had managed to avoid the lecture for that particular behaviour so far, but it couldn't last forever. Spirits preserve him; maybe he shouldn't have come in here after all. "And what is that?" The Executor gestured to the new marks lining Garrus' brow, the spots Shepard had added and he faithfully maintained. His father could _not_ shame him for that. 

His fingers brushed the lines, "Shepard." He stated simply, unwaveringly, "She has the right as my wife to make that request." Perhaps there was little else about their relationship that was technically traditional, but his father couldn't argue with that statement. Whether his father liked it or not the act had already been completed, in the eyes of the law she was his wife and her request to share markings was perfectly acceptable. 

Executor Vakarian did not speak; he stared at the markings with his painfully unreadable expression that made Garrus want to crawl out of his carapace. 

"I cannot." When his father finally spoke Garrus' fists clenched in reflex to the words, "She has nothing to offer you or your ancestors Garrus, there is no stability to be found in this marriage, there is no family in her levo blood." He wanted to let his anger flare, he wanted to point out that for every family that he had helped keep together there were a dozen newly-orphaned children with nothing left after this war, and how could anyone who knew that bring another child into the galaxy in good conscience? He wanted to point out that he wasn't the only Vakarian in this family, but that wouldn't be fair to Solana. 

What came out when he opened his mouth was not what he had expected at all. "She had faith in me when I was just a failed C-sec officer, and she helped me figure out what I was doing with my life." His voice waivered a little, but quickly found its stride. There was no anger or fatigue now, only facts and affection and more than a tinge of sadness, "And then I watched her get spaced, watched her die, and had the chance to really think about what I had lost." It still hurt to think about her dying like that, dying cold and alone and slowly suffocating in a vacuum and there was nothing he could do about it, "Only she came back, and she asked for my help. What a woman like her would need me for I still don't understand, but I trusted her. And when she told me to leave and stood trial on her own, and I trusted her." That had been hard; leaving without knowing that he'd see her again, without knowing what the Alliance would do with her for her supposed crimes. He threw himself into his work just like she would have told him to, and she had come back for him again. 

"And I watched her run to that beacon and I knew she would die, and I _trusted her_. There's no Shepard without Vakarian she said to me, and that works both ways dad. If you would just let go of the _stories_ and meet the _woman_ you might see that." It wasn't even an accusation, it was a hope, it was a wish, but the way his father's eyes narrowed he knew that the man didn't see it that way. 

"For her actions she is welcome in our home for the duration of her stay." His father reiterated, and this time the _and nothing more than that_ didn't need to be said, it was clear as day in the air between them. 

"Understood." It was the only word left to say, and he turned hard to leave, pretending the hiss of the doors drowned out his father's words as he stormed out. 

"My job as your father isn't to make your life easy. I'm not doing this to punish you." 

Garrus didn't even consider returning to his wife and sister; he retreated down the hall and back to the guest room. Left more drained and exhausted than a simple conversation had the right to leave him, all he wanted was to curl up in bed. Not that he could sleep once he got there, his mind racing with the thoughts, emotions, and frustrations that his father had left him with. Even when Jane found him he pretended to be asleep, it wouldn't fool her but at least she didn't question him. He couldn't stifle a rumble of appreciation when she slid into bed beside him, tucking her head beneath his chin and wrapping an arm around him, a gesture he easily returned. 

This was what he wanted, and his father was just going to have to live with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, there's a better insight into Executor Vakarian. It took a lot of rewriting to get this somewhere I was happy with it, so hopefully the narrative still feels halfway cohesive. It was harder than I expected to write this without putting too much of myself in it, having a strained relationship with my own father for a lot of my childhood and losing my mother it's really easy to put myself into a conversation like this. Hopefully that's kept to a minimum.
> 
> I really appreciate the comments and feedback from everyone though <3 More chapters coming soon <3


	9. Spectre Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV Switch: Shepard

Shepard let things cool for a few days, as much as she may have wanted to go barging into the Executor's office when she found that Garrus had gone to bed without her. Of course that wasn't really an option without jeopardizing the entire mission, but that didn't stop her from wanting. Instead she planned, recalculated, and made some arrangements. She would bide her time until everything lined up just right. 

Just right also happened to be when she was cleared to return to active duty by Dr. Pertinax. Solana was insistent about planning a last meal before Shepard would be allowed to leave, and once she had heard back from Liara about the possibility of transport off Palaven the whole thing just fell into place. The Normandy was still in repairs, and would be for a while yet, so there was still some down time before she _really_ returned to active duty, but her days on Palaven were numbered all the same. 

Now she stood outside the Executor's office, waiting patiently and fiddling with the plastic bag in her hand until the muffled noise of his conversation ceased. Once she was certain that he wasn't talking to anyone else she reached up and knocked three sharp raps on the metal door. Her sympathy went out to Solana, no doubt once they left her sister-in-law was going to hear about how both Garrus and Shepard had managed to slip away from her long enough to interrupt the Executor's work, because apparently it ran in the family to have an amazing ability to completely disregard blatant misbehaviour, what with Garrus' morally grey history and now his father's avoidance. Hopefully Sol would understand that this was necessary. 

"Commander, is there something you need?" The doors hissed open and the Executor stood only a few feet in front of her, looking down at the smaller human woman, both literally a metaphorically. Oh certainly his expression had all the respect that her title deserved, but she had enough experience with turian body language to read between the lines, and the mandibles. 

"Yes, there is. May I?" She questioned, nodding her head in the direction of his office. She could tell instantly that he didn’t like the idea, but he stepped aside and let her in. "I assume you're aware I'm not here entirely for leisure." She stepped past him and settled into the chair across from his desk, gesturing for him to resume his previous seat. If he wanted to make this a political power struggle then she had plenty of experience at that game, and she had a good feeling that this particular turian was not going to be half as underhanded as the Salarian Dalatrass. 

The Executor resumed his seat, but made no secret that he wasn't in a rush to do so. Her position as both active military and council Spectre may have technically given her authority over him, but as a guest in his home she had little room to abuse that power, a fact he obviously intended to make clear. Already she could see why conversing with this man left Garrus exhausted, he may have been the better shot on the battlefield but she was the tactician in the war room. 

"I had assumed as much Commander. Why would an Alliance officer come to Palaven for treatment so soon after liberating Earth?" It was a rhetorical question and Shepard could do nothing but nod along as he spoke, no matter how wrong his conclusion might be, "Though I thank you for bringing Garrus with you, it is good to see my son alive after the war." His tone was guarded but she had no reason to believe it wasn't genuine. He loved his son, regardless of how much he might disapprove of his actions. Shepard could respect that much at least. 

"Of course, I apologize for the initial confusion. I have already indicated to my messenger that they need to be more careful with their phraseology." It had been Glyph, because of _course_ it had been Glyph, and the drone was no longer allowed to write Shepard's personal messages. Liara could go on all she wanted about how helpful that he was, and certainly he was a little bit endearing, but he wasn't exactly the clearest scope in the armory. "I wanted to talk about Garrus actually." 

As soon as she spoke the words his demeanor changed, though he leaned back in his chair and did his best to maintain a cool exterior, she caught the slight change in his breathing and she could feel his eyes raking over the fading stains of paint on her face. She had thought about renewing the paint before this conversation, but that seemed a little bit too much of an incitement for the conversation that she had in mind. She wanted to test the waters in a professional capacity before diving into anything else. 

"Your son is a damn fine soldier, and the best marksman I've ever seen." She leaned comfortably back in the chair and set her bag down beside it, purposefully making herself casually comfortable despite the seriousness of the conversation at hand. "Couldn't have done it without him at my six." The Executor could put damn near any event from the past four years in that sentence and be right; Garrus had been with her through all of it. "I can't say I know where in the Hierarchy to go with that, but as his commanding officer I want to pass on my commendations. I'd like to request the correct contact information." 

"Of course, Commander." The Executor nodded sharply, and she barely caught the twitch in his mandibles that showed how badly he wanted to speak up about her little plan. Fortunately she had looked into the Hierarchy enough to know that, at least when it came to his military duty, the senior Vakarian was neither Garrus' superior officer, nor was he considered a peer. When she failed to continue like he expected his nostrils flared just slightly in irritation before he brought up his omnitool to forward the information immediately, only when her wrist beeped in response did she continue. 

"Also I know that my position as a Spectre makes things a little bit grey, but I understand that with my new position in regards to turian society I have my own set of superiors. With the Hierarchy in the state it's in it's a bit hard for an outsider to follow all the lines, would you be so kind as to put me in contact with them?" She quirked an eyebrow at him, and the way his eyes narrowed she knew he caught on to this test. She could go to anyone about this, she was on a first name basis with Primarch Victus, and both Garrus and Solana would be able to fill her in on this information. No, he could tell she had saved this question specifically for him. His hesitant silence told her a great deal of what she really wanted to know. 

"Yes Commander, though I ask that you give me a bit more time to arrange this request." His words were carefully measured and she respected how steady his subharmonics remained, "The Hierarchy is still adapting to the aftermath of the war." She didn't try to hide the twitch of a smirk at the corner of her lips, partly because she didn't care if he knew and partly because she doubted that he would pick up on the human gesture. It was a very well phrased deflection, to demand the information now would make her seem unreasonable, though he agreed to give her the information but the timing was unspecified. The addition of the Hierarchy in upheaval was a nice touch, and he had carefully not connected it _directly_ to her request for information, but the statements came close enough that they implied relation without directly blaming the upheaval for the delay. If she didn't have foreknowledge of how the Hierarchy was run she would have accepted it at face value. More importantly he had just told her everything she needed to know about how to proceed in this discussion, and she had to absently wonder if he even knew that he had just shown her all his cards. 

"Of course, I'm sure the individuals in question must be very busy at the moment." She nodded with her own careful tone, delicately calling his bluff without giving away her own understanding of the situation. Just a little hint was all it would take for him to catch on. If he wanted to make this a game of careful politics, well it wasn't the first time that she had won a war in a boardroom rather than on a battlefield. She was a Spectre for more than just her guns, and she was an N7 graduate for more than just her engineering skills. 

Satisfied that she had a good enough idea of the waters she leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, being careful to never break eye contact as she moved. She wasn't waiting now, she was on the attack. "I understand that you kept Garrus out of Spectre training early in his career?" The conversation change was sudden, intended to throw the Executor off his feet, see if he could keep up in conversation the same way his son did in the field. 

"It was his choice," Just a little too quick to defend his actions when she had only asked a simple question, but a deep breath relaxed his muscles again, a quick recovery from the fumble. "But I was clear that he should take into account that such a title isn't appropriate for an individual of his status." For a son of a C-Sec officer, for a Vakarian, was what the man wanted to say. But no matter how much he disapproved she knew he wouldn't say that in front of a Spectre, nor in front of his son's wife. A wise old fool indeed. 

"Good. The man I met on the Citadel couldn't have handled it." She shrugged, looked out the window, but in her peripheral she caught the flicker of confusion in his mandibles. It would seem her statement _almost_ caught him off guard. 

"Pardon?" Whether it was out of surprise or a desire for clarification, Shepard genuinely couldn't say, which was a fairly nice change of pace from reading him like an open book. Fast learning apparently ran in the Vakarian family, he was picking up on her strategy fairly well. 

"He was a good guy, heart in the right place but the head could use a little tweaking. Reminded me of a guy we lost on Eden Prime, Corporal Jenkins." She explained with a shrug how the Corporal idolized the Spectres, and how it compared to Garrus' blunt tactics back when he was in C-sec. There was deep affection in her voice despite the cutting criticisms she laid out before his father, a fact that she made sure that she let show. "If anything a Spectre needs to be even more aware of the rules and regulations." She shrugged, leaning back in her chair again, "Otherwise you're no better than the criminals you're taking down. But when the rules endanger the galaxy, well someone needs to be able to tweak them." She had always been clear to follow order and regulation to the best of her ability, but then there were times you had to steal a ship to save the Citadel, or align yourself with a criminal overlord for the good of the galaxy. 

The Executor wasn't sure what to make of that, she could feel the way that he sized her up as he remained silent in the wake of her words. He obviously disagreed, but she had expected that. What she was more interested in was the way that he couldn't quite seem to decide if there was any validity to be found in her arguments. 

"When the comm buoys fully functional again and the _Normandy_ is repaired I'm requisitioning it from the Alliance," Not that she would have to try very hard to do that, she had saved the Galaxy in that ship and it belonged to the Aliance only on the most superficial levels, "I'm putting together a multi-species team, Quarian Admiral, Krogan Battlemaster, respected individuals willing to join my crew." He could see where she was going with this, and if she hadn't had the experience with turians that she did she wouldn't have picked up on the feigned ignorance in his voice. Unfortunately for him she had more experience with turians than he did with humans, and the First Contact War left lingering distrust in him. 

"While I appreciate the sentiment Commander I am a bit old for that kind of career change." She cracked a grin at his attempted humor, another trait that apparently ran in the family. Perhaps there was hope for getting along with the Executor yet. 

"A pity, an Executor on the team certainly wouldn't have hurt anything. I'll have to recommend Garrus for Spectre consideration instead." She shrugged and leaned down to rifle through the plastic bag, ignoring the irritated flicking of his mandibles at her casual suggestion. "I suppose that only leaves one last order of business." She leaned forward to place a tall bottle of turian brandy and a glass on his desk, followed by a preferred brandy of her own. She cracked the seal on her own bottle first, pouring a glass, before repeating the actions on the dextro beverage. 

"It would be disrespectful of me to take advantage of your hospitality without offering something in return." She elaborated, leaning back with her glass and fixing him with a confident stare. "Spectre business, Executor." She reminded him when he started to hesitate, waiting for him to warily grasp the glass before holding her own out for a toast. 

"To a galaxy rebuilt." She clinked against his glass and watched with satisfaction as he took a slow and wary pull from it before downing her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deciding to make a quick point of view switch was a tough call, but I couldn't quite make the story work the way I wanted without it so bear with me. There are only two chapters from Shepard's viewpoint, this and the next, before we return to Garrus to wrap things up. This was originally one chapter before it kept expanding and I opted to break it down into two, so the next one will definitely be up tomorrow.
> 
> Thanks as always to my lovely girlfriend for putting up with me, and all the lovely comments I've been left 83 You are all lovely individuals.


	10. Drinks with the Executor

To the Executor's credit, she _was_ significantly younger than him, and fresh off of active duty. She could match his son drink for drink, but he didn't have the luxury of keeping up with her. She couldn't say how many glasses it had been, she made sure to keep his topped off so he wouldn't be able to count, but it hadn't been terribly many. She wanted to soften him up not knock him out. She was probably on her third glass, but she was a lot less interested in counting her own. On the bright side, her scheme was working so far, and if he had caught on to her intentions he wasn't making an attempt to stop her. 

"He shot me once you know, took my shields down and stung like a bitch." She laughed, "Damn good shot. I count myself lucky he didn't actually want to kill me." She paused for a minute and shook her head, thinking back on every shot the made her hair flutter or her shields flicker, and never once had he hit her except that one purposeful love tap. "You raised a damn fine marksman Vakarian, you have my thanks." She raised her glass across the desk to clink against his. 

"He was in here the other night." The Executor's eyes focused on the door behind her as he remembered the conversation. Shepard knew that Garrus had been in here, had spoken to his father and the conversation had not gone in Garrus' favor, but other than that she hadn't probed him for information. He would tell her what she needed to know when it was relevant. "He said something... interesting." 

Shepard knocked back the last of her drink and raised an eyebrow at him. "He does that quite a bit, never what you expect is it?" Turians might not blush but she knew well enough that she had definitely thrown him off his game on more than one occasion. But that didn't mean that he hadn't done the same to her a few times, his analysis was never off the mark and he had his own way of catching her off guard. 

Vakarian nodded absently, still staring past her shoulder as he remembered the conversation. "Yes, he gets it from his mother." He muttered absently, waving a free hand at Shepard like she had interrupted another conversation. "He explained that you told him… _there's no Shepard without Vakarian_." He spoke the words with slow emphasis before he downed the rest of his glass as though he were trying to chase the words back into his throat. 

Shepard shrugged. "Yeah. Still true, has been since day one." He was directly involved in getting Tali and her information, the very same information that had netted Shepard her Spectre status and sent the whole thing steamrolling. The Executor stared into his cup and she leaned over and tipped the bottle into it again. "Why's that interesting?" She quirked an eyebrow at him, and he seemed to be picking up on the meaning behind the gesture. 

"You don't know anything about turian ceremony?" Though it seemed on the surface like a statement there was the teensiest waiver in his subharmonics that twisted the end of his sentence into a question mark. Shepard shrugged again and shook her head; she didn't know anything but the absolute bare minimum. It hadn't been the most important thing to learn about in the middle of the war, but now that things were over they had started exchanging lessons here and there. Ceremony though? They had agreed four years of war together was ceremony enough, the rest was just paperwork that had been easy to take care of. "I see… yes he wouldn't tell you then." The Executor muttered into his glass before shaking his head and taking another drink. 

"You're gonna have to fill me in." Shepard spoke over the top of her own brandy before tipping it back, "I'm not really following here." There was obviously something a lot more important going on than Garrus had ever let on, and there was more than a little bit of suspicion in the way her eyes narrowed at the elder Vakarian. 

It was the turian's turn to shake his head, mandible's twitching with uncertainty. "It's a poor translation but… turian women do not give up their clan name when they wed." He explained slowly, patiently, finally looking back to Shepard and locking eyes with her. 

"Oh." 

_"There's no Shepard without Vakarian, so you better remember to duck." It was so much harder to keep it together than she had expected. She had died before, but it was sudden, it was unexpected, there wasn't enough time for a sense of dread to overtake her. But now that she's staring at him, at the man she had just agreed to have children with, her heart was breaking. The banter was little more than a desperate lifeline to sanity before they plunged themselves whole heartedly into madness.  
_

_"Sorry, turians don't know how. But I'll improvise." It's a little too quick the way that he responds and she knows that the stress is getting to him too. This is nothing like the Omega-4 relay, they know what they're up against this time, and there's no calm before the storm there's only a raging battlefield around them.  
_

_"Forgive the insubordination, but your boyfriend has an order for you. Come back alive, it'd be an awfully empty galaxy without you." There's a new intensity in his voice, where the jokes were hollow and hopeful a second ago, there's a new fire in his eyes as he grasps her hand. She doesn't know where it came from but it strikes fear in her, fear and desperation and a whole new intensity in her desire to come out of this alive. Professionalism is set aside as she steps closer to kiss him, to rest her forehead against his.  
_

_"Goodbye Garrus," Her voice breaks, "And if I'm up there in that bar and you're not--I'll be looking down. You'll never be alone." She doesn't want it to be true, she wants to see those little krogan running around and she wants to see the galaxy rebuilt. Most importantly she wants to see him standing on the other side of this and they'll sit in the observation deck of the Normandy and drink together until this whole war is just a hazy, far-off dream.  
_

_It's so hard to step apart; she can't look him in the eye when they do. She has to trust him; she has to know that he'll be at her six, if she has nothing left in this universe she has to believe that. It's even harder when his voice breaks and a breathy, vulnerable, "Never." Follows on her heels._

Her glass slams against the desk as she leans forward, resting a forehead on her arm as she stares down at the carpet. _I'll improvise_ he said, _empty galaxy without you_ he said, _never_ he said. Even as tears pooled at the corner of her eyes her body shook with hard breaths. 

"Commander?" There's fear and concern in the Executor's voice, and she's pretty sure that's the first time she's actually caught noticeable emotion in him instead of reading it into the fluctuations of his subharmonics. 

When she tried to speak but the only thing that escaped was a laugh, because if she didn't laugh then she'd sob, and she's thankful for the buzz of the brandy to help her process the bombshell that the Executor had just dropped on her. It takes her a second to get it back under control so she can raise her head and look at him, "He told me _the war is our ceremony_. I didn't know he meant that _literally_." Several deep breaths steady her and she shakes her head. No wonder he'd seemed startled, no wonder the intensity of his fear and his determination had jumped so suddenly after those words. She had just assumed that reality was setting and the possibility that this really was the last time had finally hit home for him. She never would have guessed it was because they'd just had an impromptu _wedding ceremony_ in the middle of a war zone. 

It was a damn good thing that had been what she wanted anyway, when it came down to it, or she would have a turian to kill. 

Instead she had laughter, and another glass of brandy. "Executor, whatever you may think of humans or Spectres or anything you've heard about me, your son is the most important thing in this galaxy to me. There is no Shepard without Vakarian, and there never will be." She pointed her glass at him with one hand while wiping the tears from her face with the other. The words felt so much more important now that she understood the full impact that they had. 

"Commander I… may have made a mistake in my earlier judgments." He spoke with careful consideration, and even a little bit drunk she could credit his diplomatic backpedaling. 

"Jane. I'm your daughter in law not your commander, call me Jane." She insisted, the no-argument tone of a Spectre leaking back into her voice. She watched the Executor as he fell silent, considering the words and the meaning and the impact behind them. Whether it was his own decision or whether the turian brandy helped him along, he seemed to come to an agreement with her. 

"Tiberius." He responded, and she nodded with both respect and satisfaction in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time I really have to call out to AceQueenKing, who's conversations and fics helped me develop Garrus' father, and who I draw the name Tiberius from as a homage both to them and to the other science fiction love of my life, Star Trek. Garrus' change in demeanor when you say goodbye to him before the run for the beacon always really stood out to me. It's unusually sudden for how most of the conversations in the game run, integrating all the bits of dialogue together fairly seamlessly. So I figured there's got to be some reason for it, and once I sat down and started fleshing out my idea for this chapter it all sort of fell into place. Hopefully it makes sense to someone else.
> 
> Thanks to my girlfriend for proofreading, as always <3 And thank you lovely readers for the support. I'd never thought I'd see a day where someone liked my fic enough to want to know when the next chapter would be. It means a lot you guys <3


	11. Call the Bluff

Garrus shook his head, while he appreciated his sister's last ditch attempt to drag their father out of his office; he was distinctly less hopeful that it would work. If the man really wanted to have dinner with Shepard and his son before they left then he certainly wouldn't need prompting to do so. He definitely didn't understand why he was doing it instead of Solana, because he was pretty sure that the Executor was still going to be upset about the whole conversation from a few days ago. Apparently she thought it would have more impact coming from him, well he would poke his nose in and see what happened if it made her happy, he would be gone soon enough and back in space where he could breathe easy. 

"Dad, Sol said to-" He rapped lightly on the doorframe as it opened, caught only lightly off-guard by the fact that the door wasn't locked, the thing had been on stand by the whole time that Garrus had been staying here. 

"So Garrus blinds the maw and I drop a Cain slug down its throat. When we got back from the Collector base Wrex passed on that I'd received three breeding offers and even _Garrus_ had caught someone's eye." Shepard stopped and shook her head, tossing back a drink of some amber liquid. Perhaps at another time he would have been able to identify what she was drinking, but right now he was a little bit distracted. 

"Garrus." Executor Vakarian looked past his conversational companion to where Garrus stood awkwardly in the doorway with mandibles flared in obvious confusion. 

"Hey." Shepard turned to look at him over her shoulder, offering him a mock salute with the glass and grinning like a devil. 

"Dinner?" Garrus awkwardly spat, unsure how else to proceed but to finish his original sentence. He had very specific expectations of what he would find when he walked into his father's office, _if_ his father was even there to begin with and hadn't slipped out when Solana wasn't looking. He had not in any way expected to find his father and his wife sharing drinks over brandy and discussing- 

Oh spirits he had forgotten about that krogan breeding offer and then she had to go and tell his _dad_. 

Shepard nodded her acknowledgement and turned back to the desk, picking up the purple bottle of turian brandy to top off the Executor's drink before selecting the amber bottle and filling her own one last time. She offered the drink up to the elder turian with a grin, "To a galaxy rebuilt!" 

"And a galaxy united." He returned. Glasses clinked and shots were downed before Shepard stood, leaving the empty glass on the desk and offering her arm to the Executor as he mirrored the actions and moved around the side of the desk to join her. 

"Tiberius, I believe that's our cue." She offered her friendliest publicity smile to his father, the same one that she would give him when she was trying to make interviewers uncomfortable when they asked questions about their relationship. It did not take long for him to determine that he did not like being the uncomfortable one in this equation. 

"That would seem to be the case, Jane." Tiberius returned politely, accepting the arm and leading the human woman past his son. 

" _Spirits_." Garrus' tone was surprisingly flat considering the number of emotions running through his brain as he attempted to make sense of… _whatever_ that was that just happened. Maybe Sol could make sense of this, or maybe he was dreaming and in a little bit he would wake up and they would be headed off of Palaven and he wouldn't have to walk down this hallway to join the rest of the family in the dining room. 

Solana did not, as it turned out, any better at understanding what had changed in their father than he was. She was, however, a lot better at handling it. Something about not looking a gift horse in the mouse, Shepard said. He was not sure what a horse was but if there were answers in its mouth now seemed like a good time to go looking. At least his father was much less interested in discussing embarrassing stories of his childhood or ridiculous things he had done on the Normandy, and for one meal at least the conversation stayed mostly in the realm of war stories. Things that were easier to talk about now that they felt like another lifetime ago and the whole galaxy wasn't relying on their ability to hold themselves together. 

Shepard was also entirely too pleased to explain her son Grunt to the krogan's turian grandfather, a fact that the Executor was not nearly as enthusiastic about. To his credit, at least he didn't outright reject the idea, but Garrus more had the feeling that his father was starting to figure out how absolutely futile rejecting Shepard actually was. She was a package deal, whether you actually wanted the whole package or not. 

There were worse things than Grunt that could come with that package, like suicide missions and near death experiences. All in all, he liked Grunt more. 

By the time they actually finished eating Garrus mostly had his feet back under him, though he was still more than a little bit wary about leaving them alone while he assisted Solana with clearing the table. "Did either of them say anything to you?" He muttered to his sister as he followed back into the kitchen. Solana only shook her head in response, dumping the evening’s clutter into the sink. 

"No, she ran some errands before I got off at the clinic and when we got back she said she was going to take a nap." Apparently that nap had gotten a little side-tracked. He was more than a little bit wishing that his meeting with Victus hadn't run over quite so long, but there wasn't any arguing with the Primarch. 

The evening only seemed to get more dangerous when they returned to the dining room. Shepard was in the middle of shuffling a deck of cards and that generally only meant one thing. He had served on her ship long enough to know exactly where this was going. 

"Sol, ever played Skyllian Five?" When the turian shook her head Shepard gestured to a seat and shrugged, "I have to teach Tiberius too. Garrus, deal us in." She passed the shuffled cards to her husband, who settled slowly into the chair across from her before gently picking up the cards with all the care of someone disabling a bomb. 

"Jane." There was a low rumble of his subharmonics, there was only so much that he could take in one evening before this whole thing was going to get entirely out of hand. 

Shepard put her hands up in surrender, "Friendly game only, no betting!" She insisted, squirming only a little bit under his hard blue stare. With a sigh Garrus dealt the cards. 

There was betting by round three. Word of advice, _never_ bet against Commander Shepard in a game of Skyllian Five, the crew had spent many a night debating if and how she cheated and while there were plenty of theories to go around, no one had any solid proof. 

"You know I didn't actually know that he was _sleeping_ in the main battery until EDI asked if I wanted to adjust supply rations to compensate." Shepard looked over her hand with coldly analytical eyes even as her tone was light and social. "I just assumed turians didn't sleep much, it never interfered with his duties so I wasn't worried about it." 

"You only thought that because of your late night snacks. For a while I thought that twitching thing you did when you were cooking was just a human quirk until I realized I'd never seen Gardner do it." Garrus countered, his family might not know better but he was plenty aware of how she used the banter to distract from the cards on the table. It was one thing with the crew but his family were rookies to the game, fast learner's for certain, but still rookies. "Took me even longer to figure out it was supposed to be _dancing_. Even EDI wasn't sure." 

"You wound me Garrus. Though I do remember a set of surveillance tapes involving a certain turian dancing in the cargo hold with a certain shuttle pilot." Shepard countered, never missing a beat as she shuffled around some of the cards in her hand. 

"Wait, _dancing_?" Solana jerked her attention away from the cards and back to the bickering going on over the table. 

"Mmhmm" Shepard smirked in response to the warning glare her husband was giving her, laying her cards face down to turn her full attention on Solana, "The middle of a galaxy-ending war and your brother decides it’s the perfect time to learn to _tango_."

 His sister giggled, and he caught the shadow of a disapproving scowl on his father's face, but he had a feeling it wasn't going to end just there. 

"Go on Garrus, how about you show her. I'm in no condition just yet, but I don't think I need to be jealous of your sister." Shepard suggested innocently, except for the fact that Garrus knew she never did anything completely _innocently_ , and the too-pleased smirk that crinkled at the corner of her eyes gave it away. This was payback for bringing up the dancing to begin with. He never was much good with poker banter; it never went the way that he expected it to. 

"This I want to see, come on Garrus." Solana was grabbing his arm and he followed with a sigh, there was no way that he was going to let Shepard win this bluff, no matter much she may have _thought_ he would refuse. He only barely caught the flash of her omni-tool before the music started, and he adjusted Solana's stance carefully. 

He was going to make sure that Shepard paid for this later. 

Sure it wasn't all bad, Solana's laughter was infectious and while his dad may not have approved of the act itself, he could be convinced of its usefulness as a training tool for reaction time and coordination. And there was Shepard, smiling and laughing with the Vakarian family, sprinkling bits of human customs that Garrus never thought he would see in his father's household. 

Maybe she would only pay for it a little bit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bless the Vakarian family, just in general, it's very entertaining considering the ways that Shepard comes in and throws off their usual dynamic and routines, and dragging Solana and Tiberius along with her schemes the same way she's always dragged Garrus along with her. 
> 
> One of the things that always hit me about the Citadel DLC was just exactly where Garrus was taking lessons between missions, since the Normandy doesn't exactly dock in any one place regularly, which meant it had to be someone on ship. Traynor and Cortez seemed like the most obvious, and since Traynor is communications and probably doesn't have a lot of off time, Cortez seemed the more likely teacher to me. (This is also definitely how Vega knows just when to show up at the casino.)
> 
> So there you have it! Thanks to my girlfriend for proofing this, and putting up with my nagging, and to all the commentors and kudos that have filtered in! Expect the final chapter tomorrow morning!


	12. Chapter 12

With a long-suffering sigh Shepard flopped back on the bed, making quick work of nestling herself in the blankets. Garrus watched her from the doorway with crossed arms, his head cocked to the side, distinctly unimpressed by the show.

"Yes I'm quite sure it's just so much work so you to clean out my families savings." Garrus rolled his eyes and flicked the light off, giving his eyes a second to adjust to the darkness before making his own way around the bed to settle down himself, or at least to settle down and attempt to wrestle _some_ of the blankets away from her.

"Are all turians bad at cards or does it just run in the family?" Unashamedly smug as she responded to his tug on the blankets by squirming away and pulling them tighter around her, "Your dad isn't so bad when you get him drunk." Forget smug she was downright proud of herself.

Garrus carefully wormed a hand underneath her, pulling the whole blanket wrapped human against him before she could do much of anything about it. "Yeah it's a pity I never thought to hand him a bottle of brandy and tell him _that's an order_." He still couldn't believe that had actually worked, that his father had cooperated with a Spectre without too much fuss. She had some advantage of being a Vakarian, even if his father tried to avoid the fact, but still. Leave it to Shepard to win over someone he didn't think could be won. Admittedly, people had said that before and now the Salarians were offering to help make Tuchanka more than just livable.

"Well you should have considered it, worked surprisingly well." She retorted, making a feigned attempt to wiggle out of his grasp despite to free her arms or legs from the blanket, a distinct flaw in her plan of cocooning up as a defense.

 "You could just _share_ the blankets." He suggested with all the gravity of someone suggesting a Krogan consider diplomacy.

Another long-suffering sigh, "I suppose we all must make sacrifices in the wake of this war." She relented, working an arm free to toss part of the blanket over him, an act he returned by pulling her up against his chest where she nestled comfortably against him.

Briefly they lapsed into silence and the old habit of running his talons through her hair as he considered how things had gone with his family. Everything had gone significantly smoother than he had expected when she brought the idea up, even if things had been just as tense and awkward as he could have predicted at first. He couldn't help but think that the fact they had just learned he was alive had been part of it. Probably something Jane had planned on now that he really had time to consider it. Certainly that theory clarified why she had been so insistent on coming here straight out of the hospital.

 "So where to next, Commander?" He murmured after a long silence, her breathing hadn't evened out enough for her to be asleep just yet. The shuttle was coming, but as far as he knew they didn't exactly have a plan. Shepard never failed to have a plan.

"You know after that taste of power I bet I know a handful of mercenary gangs that could be put in their place before they get any ideas." Shepard suggested teasingly, and Garrus squinted at her through one eye. "I'm sure Aria would be just _thrilled_ to hear from Archangel again." It was a valid concern, give a gang like the Blue Suns and inch and they'll take a mile, just because they had been of assistance in the war against the Reapers didn't make any potential actions afterwards less illegal if they wanted to go back to Omega and resume their previous operations. Garrus gave a loose hum of acceptance, it would be interesting to return to Omega and run guerilla missions in the back alleys again, that was for certain.

"Hang around there until the Normandy's in shape to pick us up. Then it's back to duty." She shrugged lightly, trying to brush off the comment even if she knew full well that Garrus had picked up on it.

"Now what galaxy-wide threat wants to take a piece out of us?" He sighed in exasperation, though mostly to hide the dread and concern that came with the idea of her spearheading the Normandy again. Sure he knew that the ship would always be her first love, she'd spent her entire life in the Alliance and he knew full well she wasn't going to leave it just for him. He was alright with that, he had already decided that before he ever agreed to enter a relationship with her. She wasn't the only one who needed time to figure things out before their afternoon atop the Presidium, and he'd be alright as her executive officer. But that didn't mean he had thought she'd return to the CIC of a warship so soon after the war, and it didn't mean he had to like it.

"Well it hit me, The Illusive Man was right. Cerberus is an idea, and it's not going to die just because he did. It was always a cluster of loose cells, and now they're just puppets without direction. They can't be left to fester out there." He could see where she was coming from, sure some of the cells would dissolve without direction or the endless funding trickling down from the top, but they had taken down enough bad cells in their time to know that not all of them would go quietly. Leaving them alone was just begging for another Illusive Man to step up and fill the hole. "So I talk to Hackett, convince him to let me found the Cerberus Elimination Squad. Squash the problem before they can take advantage of the galaxy's post-war weakness." It wouldn't be hard for her to convince them that she was the best person for the job, she had the most experience out of anyone on fighting and dismantling Cerberus cells, and she had insider information on where they were likely to be laying low. That was, _if_ she could convince Miranda to come on board.

Garrus couldn't begrudge her plan. He was distinctly less eager than her to return to duty, but he'd been through enough with her that he trusted her judgment, and he wouldn't want to be anywhere else if she were truly set on this mission. And who was he kidding, the restlessness would set in sooner rather than later and his trigger finger would be itching, you don't come out of a fight like the one they'd been in the past four years and then just set down the gun like it never happened.

"Then we settle down somewhere tropical?" He questioned after a long silence, and when she didn't respond it was safe to assume that she was asleep. There would be time for that later, he'd followed her to hell and back so many times that it was practically a vacation destination, and they should probably look into cutting travel expenses by finding a nice rental property to stay in. Perhaps something with a nice view of the lava.

His thoughts came back to the present when her voice reached him, sleep addled and not entirely awake, and just as quickly lost again into faint snoring.

 "-you wanna run tests on seashells now, too?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is the end of that, though there will probably be more to come from this universe, my girlfriend is a terrible enabler. Thanks to everyone who has been reading from the start and thanks to everyone who reads it to the end. Or has read, by the time you get to this note. The comments and kudos mean a lot, I've never posted anything of this length before.
> 
> Special thanks to my girlfriend Mazelocke and to the encouragement of AceQueenKing, without them I may not have had the courage to post or finish this monster.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing.


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